The Punishment
by Nitch
Summary: While fighting Andross, Fox is flung across the galaxy to Earth and ends up trapped in the world's largest furry convention: Anthrocon. With the help of strange and benevolent furries, Fox seeks a way back home to Corneria while trying not to reveal his true identity.
1. One

**The Punishment**

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Fox's face pressed against something warm and rock hard, sprawled on his stomach. He blinked awake. His cheek and muzzle snuggled against warm flat stone. Concrete. Fox felt it with the pads of his paws stretched out over his head. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and stared at the concrete in front of him. He was in the shade. Weeds grew in the cracks. He heard the rumble of a city around him: traffic, a siren in the distance.

Fox looked up to see a city street lined with five to six story buildings, brick and glass, much taller buildings reaching into the sky beyond a train bridge passing over the street. The air was hot, muggy, the day sunny and cloudless. A train rumbled over the elevated tracks.

Andross's portal had sent him somewhere, but where. Fox felt the dread well up in him—the realization. He could be anywhere in the galaxy, thousands of light years from Corneria. Cars on rubber wheels drove down the street. That much was familiar, though primitive. The tall buildings of glass and concrete provided additional familiar relief to his eyes. He looked down at himself. He had his clothes at least: a gray puffy cargo jacket, green flight pants, and red and black combat boots. He felt for a blaster in his holster and was pleased to find it.

Then Fox saw a person. At least he thought it was a person. A man stood several feet down the sidewalk, behind a cart with a yellow umbrella. He had no fur, just pale skin. A hairless ape! Fox thought to hide. He looked at his own paws, his own feral self. How he must appear.

The man noticed him. "Hey you. Hotdog. Two bucks. With chili."

Fox stared at the man. The man stared back and didn't mind his obvious alien appearance. Fox approached wearily. "I'm sorry?"

"Yeah, you deaf? Hotdog with chili." He gestured to his cart of food. "Two bucks. I'm almost out. Things been selling like crazy."

The man had gray stubble on his face and a weird fleshy flat nose like an ape. His skin looked like leather, which disturbed Fox. He wore a denim jacket, jeans, and a baseball cap with black greasy hair fanning out from under it. Two business men in suits holding briefcases walked by. One lifted his sunglasses to look at Fox.

"Two bucks?" Fox asked.

"Yeah, Two big ol' green American dollars. Pretty good value."

Fox frowned with realization. "Currency—I'm afraid I don't have any."

"You don't got any money?" the man belted. "Not even two bucks? With a costume like that, I figured you'd be bookin."

The words were gibberish to Fox. The man seemed to want to ignore him now, but instead said, "How can you not have two bucks, yet you're going to that convention dealie thing down the street?"

"Convention?"

"Yeah. Eh, what do you guys call yourselves?" The man fumbled for his words. "Uh, furries. Yeah that's it. Furries. I've sold hotdogs to cats and dogs and squirrels and even a wolf just in the past hour."

Fox brightened. "Here? There are people like me here?"

The man almost laughed. "Sheesh kid, people?" He leaned over his cart and pointed silver tongs at him. "There was a freakin' army!"

Fox turned, eagerly inspecting the busy street, but instead saw only heavy traffic: cars going by with more hairless apes behind the wheels. "Where did they go?"

The man chuckled. "Man, you really are lost. The convention center is about three blocks down." He pointed ahead.

Fox turned to walk. "Thank you sir."

"Woah wait," the vendor said. "I tell you what, take a hotdog. I gotta get rid of these things. You seem like a nice guy. And for a costume like that, I think you deserve it. It's the best I've seen."

Fox took the hotdog and took a bite.

"Holy christ!" the man said nearly jumping back. "That is unreal. I can't believe how good you guys are with these costumes. You can chew with that thing?" The man inspected Fox like a toy, from head to idly swishing tail.

"I don't really understand," Fox said between chews. He looked around at the skyscrapers. "What do you call this place?"

The man looked at where Fox was looking. "What, you on drugs or something? You're on Penn Avenue."

Fox didn't respond, still studying the tall opulent concrete and glass towers.

"…in Pittsburgh."

Fox repeated the ugly word: "Pittsburgh." He finished the hot dog and handed the man the foil wrapper and started walking away.

The man took it and shook his head, calling after him, "Have fun kid." And when Fox was out of earshot—"Damn weirdos."

**+.+.+.+.+.+.+**

Fox McCloud entered the concourse of the David L. Lawrence Convention Center in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Thousands of hairless apes, in furry costumes, with furry ears, or just as their natural human selves walked around, waited in lines, posed in groups. Sunlight beamed through the massive windows. People, young and old, snapped photos of fursuiters.

Fox understood nothing. He made a slow 360 degree turn in place, taking in the dizzying sight. These weren't people like him, like the hotdog vendor had said. These were hairless apes pretending to be… something else… something animal… something like him, but only a faint approximation, a goofy approximation. Fox looked at the costumes the people wore: canines, and felines, and squirrels, and tigers of fake plush fur, big goofy eyes, tails that hung dead and limp. A massive banner was strung over the concourse from a metal beam that read: ANTHROCON 2008 with giant paw prints.

A chubby man not dressed in any costume ran up to Fox holding out a camera. The man wore khaki shorts and a shirt that said "Disney's TaleSpin" with a cartoon picture of a gray bear dressed as a pilot giving a thumbs up.

Fox blinked at the man as he aimed a camera at him. "Holy crap, this is amazing! Can I take your picture? Please please please!" The man beamed at Fox up and down and flashed a picture without waiting for a response.

A curvy teenage girl wearing baggy black clothes and white cat ears walked to the guy lazily. Her jeans had a silver chain looped between the belt and a pocket. She held several folders stuffed with drawings. Her demeanor jolted awake when she saw Fox. "Wow. Awesome Fox McCloud suit," she said in a husky voice. She brushed her neck-length blond hair out of her face.

Fox glared at her. "How do you… how did you know to call me Fox McCloud?"

"Opposable muzzle too. This must have cost a fortune."

Fox shook his head and grabbed her by the arms. "You said my name," he said sternly. "Tell me how you know my name."

The girl looked at the paws gripping her arms. "Nice claws!"

The guy was on a cell phone now. "Jason, you have to come to the entrance. You have to see this guy. It's Star Fox. Best suit I've seen. Ever." He frowned. "Your tail is in the goddamn trunk of my Civic. Get your tail on and get over here, now now now."

Fox let go of the girl and she said, "Right, I get it, you're RPing hardcore. Um, I guess I know your name because of the video games?"

Fox's eyes relaxed with disbelieving uncertainty. "Video games?"

"Yeah, by Nintendo. I mean, I never really played them, just seen tons of art for it. That's who you're trying to be right? Fox McCloud?"

Fox rubbed his head. He felt ill from confusion. "I don't understand. Yes. I'm Fox McCloud, but—"

The girl caught on with the role-playing, nodding tiredly. "Oh right right, nevermind, I never mentioned video games. Sorry. So tell me Fox, how's Lylat these days?"

There were other flashes. A small crowd had formed around him, taking pictures. Goofy fursuit eyes nodded at him with approval and waved big goofy paws at him. Fox recognized cartoonish wolves, canines, felines, a squirrel, a tiger. One Siberian Husky crossed his arms and nodded exaggeratingly.

Fox couldn't answer. He spun in place again, all the eyes, fat hairless apes, fursuits. Soon he was still, but his head still spun. The crowd grew and grew. People asked more questions. Someone touched his tail. Flashes drowned him. A fat girl with tiger face paint scritched his ears.

"This is going on my YouTube!" someone said.

"Is he on FurAffinity?" someone else said.

Another chubby guy put his arm around Fox as he posed for a picture. Fox went light-headed. His legs turned to mush. He passed out.

* * *

This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter length Star Fox story, so stay tuned. And please review!


	2. Two

**-.-.-.-.-.- 2 -.-.-.-.-.-  
**

"All right, give him room."

Fox opened his eyes to blinding fluorescent lights. The room was freezing cold. He lay on a leather couch. Other people in fursuits lounged on other couches with their heads off, drenched in sweat. They wiped their foreheads with towels. Their fleshy greasy heads looked tiny compared to their bulky fursuits. One held a cup under a water cooler spigot. Two hairless apes helped Fox up to a sitting position.

"Here drink this," someone said, handing him a bottle of Dasani water. It was the guy in the 'TaleSpin' shirt. Fox got a better look at his black hair, weak mustache, and freckles. "You passed out, probably from the heat."

The blond girl in cat ears sat next to him. She had clusters of red spots on different parts of her round face. "We tried to take off your head piece, until we realized it's a make-up job."

"Mad props man," said another guy, who was super skinny, unlike the others, but still super pale. He wore thick glasses and a black T-shirt that said 'FURCADIA.' He had stringy orange hair past his shoulders and scruffy orange facial hair that went down his neck. A spotted blue cheetah tail drooped from the back of his pants. "It's like the freakin' _Planet of the Apes_ remake Tim Burton did, except instead of an ape, it's a fox."

"Shutup Jason," the 'TaleSpin' guy said. "The Planet of the Apes remake sucked ass and you know it."

Jason hissed like a cat and squatted in front of the couch on his haunches, resting his arms on his knees in a feral pose.

Fox took a sip from the bottle. "Yeah, it was pretty hot outside. This make up is—intense."

The 'TaleSpin' shirt guy extended his hand to Fox. "I'm NiffleDog, but my real name is Isaac. You can call me either, but I prefer Niffle."

Fox shook the hairless ape's hand, which felt strange and smooth. "Fox McCloud… my real name is... Bill."

Bill wouldn't mind if he borrowed his generic-sounding name in this foreign planet. Then he thought of Bill… if he would ever see him, or anyone from the team again. He thought of the moment just before whatever it was that sent him here happened.

He had been flying in his Arwing, arcing around Andross's true brain form to line up another volley of nova bombs at Andross's dimensional flexer machine, a weapon capable of destroying entire star systems. The weapon had to be destroyed to prevent Lylat from being ransomed into oblivion. The machine's dimensional portals were open—giant cubes of pure white light that were designed to eventually align and rip apart spacetime within a several light year radius.

Falco and Slippy's Arwing's swung around Andross's distended eyes to distract him while Fox tried to nova bomb the machines one by one. The ruse failed and Andross saw through the tactic. Fox came too close to the brain's pulsating medulla and a tentacle snatched Fox's Arwing, shattered the canopy.

"Now you will know true pain," Andross's metaphysical voice roared. A tentacle coiled around Fox as his Arwing broke apart and swung him into one of the bright white cubes.

And then—Pittsburgh.

The blond girl with pimples extended her hand too, "Nice to meet you Fox. I'm Anniekin. It's like Anakin Skywalker, but not."

Fox shook her hand, not understanding what any of that meant. "So where am I?" Fox looked at the other fursuiters with their heads off.

"Cooling room," Niffle said. "Suiters come in here to recharge. It gets pretty hot with those headpieces on. Especially in Pennsylvania in June."

Anniekin touched Fox's blaster. "The props you got are awesome."

"Don't touch that!" Fox jerked away. Everyone startled. He relaxed. "I'm sorry."

The girl nodded. "It's expensive. I gotcha."

"So who are you here with?" Jason asked. "Where are you staying?"

Fox shrugged. "I'm here alone."

"God, the way your muzzle moves," Niffle said. "It's creeping me out, but in such a good way." He grinned, seeming almost aroused. "What room are you staying in?"

Fox shrugged again. "I don't know. I don't have a room."

"Are you kidding? You showed up to Anthrocon without making any kind of reservation?"

Fox was bewildered. "Yeah, I suppose I did."

Anniekin nudged Niffle. He looked at her and she made an urgent face, cocking her head to Fox. Niffle nodded. "We've got tons of room in our suite Fox, you can definitely crash with us. I mean as long as we get to be your handlers."

Fox liked that they still called him Fox. These curious people indulged in fantasy it seemed. But he shook his head. "Handlers? I'm afraid I don't have any currency to give you for any of that."

Niffle checked Anniekin's face and she nodded feverishly. "It's no problem at all," Niffle said. "Every fursuiter has to have a handler to help you out!"

Jason poked his watch. "The Masquerade is in twenty minutes if we want to see it." He looked at Fox. "I know you're doing it. There's no way you wouldn't get first."

"Masquerade?" Fox asked.

Jason, Niffle, and Anniekin looked between each other. "Dude," Jason said. "The Masquerade is like one of the biggest events at Anthrocon. Have you even been to Anthrocon before?"

"Oh my god is this your first time?" Anniekin asked.

Fox shrugged. "I'm not really from around here."

"Neither are we," Niffle said. "We drove here from New Jersey. Where are you from?"

Fox scratched his head. "Um." He quickly inspected the room, trying to find anything to help. Generic paintings of gentle streams and flowers hung on the walls. More posters of cartoon animal people. On the wall behind the couch hung a framed world map. Fox picked a word. "Asia."

They stared at him. Niffle laughed. "I get it! Asia. You're funny."

"Guys, we don't have time," Anniekin said. "We have to get him registered into the Masquerade." She beamed at Fox. "The winner gets five hundred dollars. You have to do it."

"He'll have to do something on stage," Niffle said. "He can't just stand there."

Jason grabbed Fox's tail and held it up. "Niffle. Look at this thing. It moves!" He gestured his hands around Fox's face. "Look at all this! All he has to do is just wag his tail and pose a couple of times and he'd win."

Anniekin grabbed Fox by the arm. "Then let's get him in!"

They yanked Fox up from the couch. Fox didn't know what to think of all this, but he knew he didn't like it. He wanted a moment where he could sit down and collect his thoughts: try to figure out a plan, try to get some answers about this planet, about these video games that featured him. That was the part that piqued his curiosity and confusion the most. How could he be in media created on a planet likely on the other side of the galaxy? But the fact there were video games featuring him meant there was some kind of connection between here and Corneria. Perhaps… a possible way home.

Then there were questions about these people themselves. Why did they have such a fascination with alien appearances. This fit nothing he was taught about potential extraterrestrial encounters. The Academy always said the most likely reaction would be fear, aggression, violence, but these people could not stop looking at him, could not stop touching him. They were hospitable, yes, but their constant lascivious glances seemed to pose different motivations. He would have to maintain caution.

In the concourse on the way to the registration table, Niffle pointed at something in the crowds. "Fox look! It's the rest of the Star Fox team!"


	3. Three

**-.-.-.-.-.- 3 -.-.-.-.-.-**

Three people dressed as Falco, Slippy, and Wolf O'Donnell posed for pictures by the escalators. They didn't have fursuits, just clothes, props, accessories, and dyed hair. A tall guy in his midtwenties was dressed as Falco and had his hair dyed electric blue and spiked up with gel. He held his toy blaster up and made a stern face. A short chubby guy wore a yellow spandex suit with boots and had green face paint. He hobbled around. And Wolf O'Donnell was a lanky teenage girl. Fox knew it was Wolf because she wore an eyepatch, a vest with shoulder armor, combat boots, and wolf ears. However, oddly, her messy short hair was dyed green.

Fox saddened, seeing the familiarity, despite its alien mistakes and mockery. The sight still inspired him on some level to remember the connections between here and home. He turned to Niffle and said, "Wolf O'Donnell is not on the team."

Niffle laughed, "With the amount of fanfiction about you two, he might as well be."

"What?"

The guy dressed as Falco was the first to notice Fox in the crowd. His jaw practically dropped and he pointed. "Jeez Laweez, what is that?" Then he jumped up and down giddily laughing, "I knew someone would come dressed as Fox and look ten times better than us." The rest noticed and gestured frantically for him to join. People taking pictures noticed and waited for him.

Without any introductions they put him in the center of their line and put their arms around him and continued posing as more cameras flashed and people took photos with their phones.

The girl dressed as Wolf O'Donnell said snarkily, "Way to outdo us." She inspected him head to toe with faux judgment, smirking. "However, I don't think Fox wears those kinds of boots."

This was the first time Fox genuinely smiled. "You're probably right."

She frowned approvingly. "Moveable mouth too. You are definitely a lifestyler."

Despite her being a hairless ape dressed as Wolf O'Donnell with green hair, Fox kind of liked this girl. She was different. She carried herself with a lazy air and didn't have the same bizarre ecstatic reactions others had. She was thin and had a smooth creamy face and a button nose. She was a foot shorter than him, which made her Wolf O'Donnell very cute. How he wished he had a way to show this to the real Wolf. It would be too funny. He asked her name.

"Wolf O'Donnell," she smirked putting the barrel of her toy blaster against Fox's chest where his jacket parted. She wore black gloves as well.

Fox looked at the fluffy gray ears sticking out of her green hair. "Wolf doesn't have green hair."

She shrugged. "I know. I thought I'd spice it up a little. I mean, how many wolves here have gray fur."

Fox looked around the concourse, trying to count the fursuits.

"Exactly," she said. "So I've got green hair. Deal with it. And your name?"

He crossed his arms. "Fox McCloud."

"And how much did Fox McCloud spend to look like this?"

The guy dressed as Slippy poked him. "Fox, get this guy off me!"

Everyone laughed.

Fox cringed, and forced a smile, not looking at him. Thousands of light years away, and his likeness was still irritating as hell. Fox said to Wolf, "Are you guys doing the—what's it called—the Masquerade?"

She shook her head and smirked. "I just like to cosplay on my own terms. I don't really go one hundred and ten percent with this."

Falco continued to pose frequently and say random catchphrases. He pointed his blaster at a camera and held his other hand out in a ta-da stance. "Too late! Game over pal!"

Wolf rolled her eyes. "Unlike him."

A crease formed on Fox's forehead. "I don't think I've ever heard Falco talk like that."

Wolf sighed. "He says it in Star Fox 64—in the Area 6 intro cut scene."

Fox blinked. These games sounded thorough.

But she corrected herself, "I'm just a fan of the games. And I like going to cons to buy art. I'm not that furry."

Fox rolled his jacket sleeves up, which puffed out the orange fur on his arms. "Looks like I'm pretty furry."

She glanced, nonplussed. "Indeed. Furry enough for the Masquerade at least. I'll be in the audience. I think you'll knock 'em dead."

Fox's friends started pulling him away. "C'mon!" Anniekin said. "You're going to miss it!"

Fox said, "Take it easy Wolf."

She smiled and shook her head. "You too, kid."

Falco said to her, "That guy looked amazing. Did you see that tail?"

She watched Fox recede into the crowds. "That's dedication right there."

Slippy beamed. "I think I liked him."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Easy there frog boy."

Fox's new friends swooped him through the lines to the registration table. The guy sitting behind the table complained that registration was closed and that Fox missed the mandatory rehearsal.

Jason told Fox to wag his tail, which he did.

The registration guy handed Fox a lanyard with a numbered tag. "You're in."

Anniekin hung the lanyard around Fox's neck and they rushed him into the ballroom—a massive dim room with hundreds of chairs, a galaxy of dim lights on the ceiling and a giant stage. Hundreds of people milled about the seats. In front of the stage, a small army of photographers prepped their huge cameras. An usher with drooping rabbit ears pulled Fox from his friends and said he needed to take him back stage to get ready. He was momentarily taken aback by the convincing suit. Fox's friends cheered for him as he was led away.


	4. Fur

**-.-.-.-.-.- 4 -.-.-.-.-.-**

Backstage, dozens of fursuit heads turned as Fox walked by. The bunny-eared usher led him to the back. "You'll be going last," he said, pushing his droopy ears back. "What are you doing for your routine? Do you have music ready? Props we need to know about?"

Fox shrugged. "No. I don't know what I'm doing."

The usher touched his ear, nodding, listening to something else through his earpiece. "I have to get back. Some wolf is dry humping a pillar." He smiled at Fox, confident in his appearance. "You'll think of something."

Then Fox was alone. He moseyed around the dark backstage area. Cables hung from the ceilings. A chunky bikini-clad woman covered in tiger body paint twirled batons, counting to herself. Old stage lights were scattered about. A fox, orange-furred like Fox, leaned into a Tai-Chi stance holding out a Katana. He had a red bandana tied around his head and wore a loose white Gi. He seemed to have trouble with the stances because of his giant foot paws.

A raccoon, a mouse in a skirt, and a lion practiced a dance routine nearby.

A turtle noticed Fox. "Great, we're all screwed." He sided next to Fox and watched the three animals practice their dance. "What are you doing, hot shot?"

"I don't know. I don't have anything to do."

The turtle turned his head toward Fox. "Maybe we do have a chance after all. Really though, you have a routine, right?"

Fox looked past the turtle. "Where is the exit? I need to get out of here."

The turtle would have frowned if his face wasn't just lifeless smiling plush with plastic eyes. "Seriously? Think about the five hundred bucks man."

Fox spun around and shoved the turtle against the wall, holding him by the collar of his ugly Hawaiian shirt. The practicing dancers stopped and watched. "Listen buddy. I don't know what the hell is going on. I don't want to be here. What I need, is to get the hell out of here. Now."

The raccoon approached. "Wow, Fox McCloud!"

The tiger-painted girl spinning batons came over as well. "That's a lovely suit."

The lion said, "Are you doing a fighting routine?"

Fox looked around and let go of the turtle.

The turtle pointed. "That's it! You can fight on stage!"

"You could do Smash Bros. moves," said the lion. "Can you do karate like the real Fox?"

"Do you have stage fright?" said a gravely man's voice. It came from the skirt-wearing mouse. "Just think: in a fursuit, no one can see who you really are."

Fox blinked.

There was a rumble of applause through the walls. The first act was going on. A wolf down by the stairs said, "Wish me luck." He held two yo-yos. Everyone wished him luck. A stage director led him up the stairs. The rest went back to practicing their routines, realizing the stiff competition Fox posed.

The Masquerade continued glitchlessly, except for some minor wardrobe malfunctions like a lost tail, and a tiger-painted titty accidentally popping out during furious baton twirling.

"All right," announced the MC. "Are you guys excited?" The audience cheered. "Are you guys pumped for Anthrocon!" The audience cheered louder. He looked at his card. "Well up next we have, straight from the Lylat system—Fox McCloud!"

The audience applauded. Jason and Anniekin whistled and hollered from the second row. Wolf, Falco, and Slippy clapped. "This should be good," Slippy said.

For a moment, the stage was empty, just a black curtain. Then Fox shuffled reluctantly on and the cheering rose at the sight of his stunning suit.

Jason leaned to the otter next to him. "It's not a suit, it's a makeup job. Amazing right? I gotta find out who did his work."

Niffle rushed to the sound tech guy at the back of the ballroom. He handed him his iPod. "Dude, under Kōji Kondō, play 'Corneria theme.' Quick quick. He needs music."

The sound guy plugged in the iPod and swirled his thumb. The music came on.

Fox squinted in the spotlight as the familiar energetic tune came on. "Um," Fox said into the microphone. The applause subsided. "Well… I'm going to show everyone some fighting moves."

"Do a barrel roll!" someone shouted from the audience.

Fox searched the seated silhouettes. "That's funny. Whoever said that, why don't you come up here? You can be my demo."

The audience clapped. A guy in a crocodile costume rose from his seat nervously and went to the stage.

"Good," Fox said and took the microphone off its stand. He held it up to the croc's lifeless mouth. "What's your name buddy?"

"Chomps685," the croc said in a muffled voice.

"Okay, Chomps685." Fox pointed stage-left. "I need you to stand over there and not move." He turned to the audience. "This is called a roundhouse kick, which you might recognize."

Fox calmly put the microphone back on the stand. He closed his eyes for a second, composing himself. Then he made a battle cry, spun around three times like a tornado and kicked the croc in the face. The croc went flying into the curtain nearly tearing it down.

The audience applauded.

The croc struggled to get up. His head was spun around. He twisted it back.

"Wow!" Jason said. "He even shouts like the real Fox!"

Two rows back, Wolf covered her mouth and laughed. "I can't believe that just happened."

Slippy smiled. "Now I know I like him!"

Fox clasped his gloves together, "Good. Next I'll demonstrate some throws."

The croc shook his head. The audience cheered. Then the croc reluctantly gave a thumbs up.

"Okay Chomps685," Fox said. "I need you to run at me like you're trying to hit me."

The croc stood still.

The audience laughed and Fox smirked slyly. "You could pretend I just kicked you in the face and now you're mad."

Fox was enjoying himself. He took off his jacket and tossed it aside, revealing his tight green under armor. The short sleeves showed off his large orange-furred biceps. The crowd went strangely wild at the sight, yipping, hooting, and howling. Fox wished he kept the jacket on. The Corneria theme music ended, and Meteo started.

Jason and Niffle side-tracked into an argument over the best song from Star Fox 64. "Meteo is the best," Jason said.

"No Zoness's music is," Niffle said.

"That one takes too long to build up. And it's too quiet. Katina is way more epic than Zoness."

"Shutup guys!" Anniekin said. "Star Wolf theme, end of argument."

They agreed to that.

Chomps685 was ready now. The croc jogged toward Fox clumsily, swinging his arms. Fox swooped around, tripped the croc at the shin, grabbed him by the arm and waist and heaved him off the stage. The croc crashed into the judges' table, breaking it in half sending mics and laptops flying. A huge mess of a commotion ensued.

Fox realized he might have gone too far in his self-satisfying abuse. People helped the crocodile up. The audience cheered regardless. One judge, a fat bearded man wearing a white fluffy squirrel tail, pointed at Fox. "Unacceptable, you're disqualified!"

Fox shrugged. Scattered boos at the judge.

Backstage, the tiger-painted baton twirler held hedge clippers to a taut metal cable. She knew her routine was lackluster. She knew she would lose, especially since her titty popped out and the Masquerade couldn't be above a PG-13 level. The cable connected to the scaffolding high above the stage, stringing to an array of stage lights.

"I hope this makes Encylcopedia Dramatica." She grimaced and cut the cable.

Fox was halfheartedly apologizing to a judge when the array of stage lights plummeted toward him. He hit his reflector the instant he looked up. The stage lights ricocheted off the cyan hexagon shell of light in an explosion of sparks.

The audience went dead silent. The music stopped.

Fox shut off his shimmering reflector. He looked around at the stunned crowd, the jaw-dropped judges. Even Chomps685 stared lifelessly up at him, no longer holding his head in pain.

Fox rubbed his muzzle. "Um—"

The audience erupted into a cheering stadium, jumping up, screaming, hollering. A judge ran up and threw a medal around Fox's neck. Photographers snapped pictures of him like strobe lights. The Star Fox 64 mission accomplished music started. In the ensuing elation, Jason, Niffle, and Anniekin ran up onto stage, cheering Fox (trying to co-opt his glory). "We're his handlers," Anniekin said to someone. Fox broke a bemused smirk and they led him off the stage. A judge shoved the check into his paws.

"Fox McCloud is the winner!" said the judge, but it was lost in the roar.

Slippy and Falco were out of their seats, clapping and cheering, but Wolf sat. She watched as Niffle, Jason, and Anniekin led him out the double doors with the hoard of adoring fans, photographers, and camera men.

Falco nudged her from above. "Wasn't that amazing?"

Wolf watched the pieces of fallen stage lights smolder on stage. "Doesn't anyone find that a little strange?"

"What do you mean?"

She held out her gloved hand. "The guy had an actual… reflector thingy… which, to my knowledge, doesn't exist."

Slippy shrugged and kept clapping. "Maybe he made it. I made these boots."

Wolf cringed at him. "That's nothing like a tail, or fake fur, or boots—that's a piece of functional technology."

Falco grew irritated. "Okay, maybe it was staged and the pyrotechnics were already set up."

She shook her head and hummed with doubt.

Falco sneered. "Kelsy, you always have to be a Debbie Downer. Just admit that was amazing. No one's routine compared to that."

"I'm not arguing that it wasn't amazing. That's what I'm saying. It was _too_ amazing."


	5. Five

**-.-.-.-.-.- 5 -.-.-.-.-.-**

Fox's friends led him down spacious walkways and corridors to various parts of the convention. The sun was setting. Pyramids of orange light swept through the Pittsburgh skyline down into the convention center. A scattered troop of fans and photographers followed Fox and his friends like they were celebrities.

Jason pointed out various events as they passed. "That's a workshop on puppetry done by this awesome guy, Furpetto." They passed the classroom of people trying to mimic an older man's movements with his furry muppets.

"And there's the Husky Social. Nothing but Husky's." They passed a bland waiting room with dozens of Siberian husky fursuiters standing around, holding drinks, nodding their heads in chit-chat. "Here's a room where people just play games, card games, D&D, whatever."

Anniekin grabbed Jason's arm. "And here's the dealer room! Let's go get some art." She pointed to the open double doors to a large hangar sized room with herds of long tables and booths covered in laminated prints and books and tails and stuffed animals and clothes and fursuits and a sundry of merch. The room was jam packed with people filtering through the wide rows.

They walked in and Niffle asked Fox, "So who are your favorite artists?"

Fox shrugged. "I don't really know."

"You have to have at least a top five. Art is like the backbone of furrydom. It's like the lifeline to manifesting our reality." He pulled Fox through a crowd surrounding a table. "Here's like, number three for me."

Laid out on the table were dozens of laminated drawings, sketches, color paintings—cute mice and hamsters in fantasy clothes, vivid detailed fantasy creatures—and then a giant pear with a mouth and teeth.

Jason picked up a laminated sketch of a hamster lost in lush woods. "Ursula is like one of the best artists out there."

Fox nodded. "Strange."

Anniekin was buying a print of mouse dressed as a tribal warrior. "Yeah, she's super famous. She's practically an internet meme."

A doughy white woman sat behind the table (trying to keep track of all the people shopping). She smiled thoughtfully. "Thank you."

Niffle tried to chitchat with the woman and Jason and Anniekin moved on with Fox.

Anniekin groaned and adjusted her cat ears. "Isaac always tries to act like he knows artists just because he's their friend on DeviantArt or FA, or because he edits their Wikifur article. It's awkward." She stopped Fox, turned and grinned at him mischievously. "Now here's something you might like." She gestured to the table beside her.

Laid out were dozens of portraits of Fox, Falco, Wolf, Bill—some without their shirts on. Some were of Fox, completely nude with heart stickers covering his privates.

Fox stared at himself, posing in many compromising sexual positions.

Anniekin picked up one laminated print of Fox nude, laying against his Arwing… touching himself. His healthy orange-furred physique, his musculature, was dead on. He wondered if things were accurate under the censoring sticker. Fox reddened furiously under his fur and felt his face burn like he was under a heat lamp.

"That one's twenty," said the artist behind the table. Anniekin reached for her black Hello Kitty purse.

"Could you…" Fox mumbled. He cleared his throat and gently took the print from her hands. "Could you not buy that."

"You want it? I was buying it for you."

Fox shook his head repulsed, trying to shut out this moment. He stared down at the print, at his own elated expression. This was a violation.

The artist gawked at Fox. He was an older man in his thirties, chubby with black hair. His eyes traced over Fox's jacket, green under armor, down to his flight pants where they bunched at the crotch.

Fox saw the hairless ape's wandering eyes and bit his tongue in disgust and gently set the print back on the table.

"You don't want it?" Anniekin asked perplexed. "I thought you might like this. I mean… it's Fox."

"Wait, you're not gay?" Jason asked eagerly over his shoulder.

"I'm not," Fox said.

"Thank you!" Jason cheered. "I always feel like the only non-gay furry. Yay boobies. High five." He held his hand up.

Fox ignored him and picked up another picture of himself and Falco… in bed. It was vivid in detail and expression. Fox glared at the artist. "Fox McCloud isn't gay."

The artist shrugged. "Who are you to say? It's just fantasy."

"No. It isn't fantasy. I was engaged—I mean—Fox was engaged once. Haven't you ever heard of Fara Phoenix?"

"Look, I have some straight art." The artist picked up a print of a blue-furred vixen, naked, holding a staff.

Fox's pupils dilated. She was beautiful. He took the print from the man, looking at the naked blue fox, cradling her in his paws. Her features were almost photorealistic. He pitied that she too had to be degraded in this fashion. "Who is this?"

The artist laughed. "Is it that bad? It's freaking Krystal."

Fox stared at the blue fox. She was a complete stranger.

"Yeah, from Dinosaur Planet," Anniekin said. "You must be real old school, mentioning Fara. Have you even played Star Fox Adventures or Assault or Command?"

Fox's mind spun. Dinosaur Planet. Did they mean Sauria? That was over eighteen parsecs from Corneria. He had never been there. How could these people know about it? Fox gave the drawing back. "Of course I've played them," he said, forcing obviousness.

Niffle found them through the crowd, shoving aside photographers snapping pictures of Fox. "Guys, do you want to go up to our room for a bit. We haven't even checked in. I need to unwind."

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

The hotel room was quaint, contemporary, with two queen sized beds, wood TV cabinet, and a small potted Ficus tree in the corner. Niffle and Anniekin dumped their luggage beside one bed and laid out. Niffle pulled out his MacBook.

Jason took the other bed and pulled out his laptop too. Anniekin turned on the TV and retrieved her Nintendo DS and started poking around on it. The TV blinked on to a laughing audience and a suited man behind a desk. In the corner was a watermark that said _The Daily Show_.

Fox slowly entered and sat at the end of Jason's bed. He sighed. He had to find a way out of here. A sensation of trapped dread pressed on his shoulders. He looked out their seventh floor window at the Pittsburgh skyline—skyscrapers twinkling in the purple twilight, rows of yellow bridges over the river, the lush green hills in the distance dotted with row houses. How he missed Corneria City.

Anniekin watched the TV and reached for a bag of chips. "If Jon Stewart was a furry, what would he be?" She popped open the bag noisily.

Niffle dug for chips. "Falcon. He has kind of a Jewish nose."

"Ooh or anteater," Anniekin said.

Fox tried to watch the TV, but was helpless to the cultural references and political humor.

"Hey guys," Jason said. "Check out this news article: It's about Anthrocon." Anniekin and Niffle sat up and Jason began to read the article from his laptop. "Things are a little wilder than usual in downtown Pittsburgh. Anthrocon, the world's largest convention for people fascinated with animal characters that take on humanlike qualities…"

"Hey's that a good description of furryness," Anniekin said. "It doesn't make me feel fursecuted."

Jason continued reading. Fox drowned out his nasal voice and tried to watch _The Daily Show_ to see if he could gather information about this planet's society.

By the time Jason finished reading, it dawned on Fox: the laptop Jason was using was accessing some sort of information center.

"Would you mind if I used that?" Fox asked.

"No problemo," Jason said, passing the laptop off to Fox.

"Watch out for his loli porn stash," Niffle said.

"Shut up," Jason said, reaching for the remote. "I hate this show. Can we watch some anime? I brought my _Wolf's Rain_ and _Kaiketsu Zorori_ DVDs."

Fox put the warm bulky device in his lap and studied the glowing screen. It was open to a blank window that said "Firefox Start" and "Google Search" with a text box. Even their technology was inspired by animals. Fox clicked into the text box and pondered what to type.

_What is the name of this planet?_ He poked clumsily with his claws. He clicked the search button.

Results 1 through 10 out of 127 million popped up. Fox sighed. But the first link said _The Nine Planets Solar System Tour_.

Perfect! Fox eagerly clicked. The website gave a complete tour of the solar system with diagrams, charts, and data about each world. After going through the Sun, Mercury, and Venus, he discovered this planet was _Earth_. The pictures looked so much like Corneria. Fox felt the tightening thrill in his stomach—the desperation to go home.

But there were so many more questions. After more searching, Fox discovered the location of Earth in their galaxy. They called it, oddly, the Milky Way, which Fox knew simply as Galaxy Alpha. He knew it was the same pinwheel galaxy as Corneria's from the telescopic images, but he had no way to tell where it was in relation to Corneria. He knew it was far: Earth looked to be in a distant spiral arm while Corneria was a bit closer to the galactic center. They could have been at least four thousand light years away.

He searched s_pace travel from earth_ and discovered with wrenching realization: Earth people hadn't even sent a person to another planet in their own solar system. Their technology was vastly inferior. His heart plummeted. Andross had banished him to the deepest darkest corner of the galaxy.

It dawned on him to search something else. (This Google thing was addicting.) He typed _Star Fox_.

Wikipedia came up. He poured over the article. How could they know all of this? They knew every planet of Lylat. People in Fox's life. Specifications of Arwings. The games looked rudimentary, but seemed to capture a decent amount of the essence of his life. Fox found the creator's name: Shigeru Miyamoto.

That was familiar. He silently rolled the name over his tongue. Fox looked at the picture of the hairless ape and searched the depths of his memory. Where had he heard that name?

"Guys!" Anniekin yelled, jolting Fox from his pondering. "The dance starts at nine, we have to go." She beamed at Fox. "It's fursuit friendly too."

"Dance?" Fox was about to pull off a boot since his feet were killing him.

"Yeah, DJ DragonBoy is spinning. We can't miss out on that!"

"I'll get my glowsticks!" Jason said digging into his backpack.

Soon they were all packing up and heading for the door. Fox thought of asking if he could stay in their room alone, but figured that'd be seen as odd or awkward. Even though his new friends seemed to relish in his presence, Fox had lost his curiosity into these people's interests once he saw gay porn of himself.

In the hallway Fox ran into Wolf walking by herself. "Hey!" he said somewhat relieved.

"Hey," she smirked, and crossed her arms. "Where are you guys padding off to?"

Anniekin, Niffle, and Jason scampered off to the elevators. Two feline fursuiters passed by with glowsticks around their necks, checking out Fox.

"Oh let me guess," Wolf said, watching the felines. "The furry rave?"

"Apparently it's fursuit friendly," Fox said.

"Right, isn't everything fursuit friendly around here?"

"Are you coming?"

She sighed. "I was going to wander these hallways aimlessly since Falco and Slippy are off at some art workshop… but I think I'll come watch the freak show instead."

"Yeah, this place is a freak show," Fox said.

"Aren't you the pot calling the kettle black," Wolf said, pinching Fox's furry forearm.

"I don't quite know what that means, but I'm guessing I said something hypocritical?"

Wolf laughed as they walked to the elevators, "Yes. Yes you did my furry friend."

"Hey, what about these ears?" Fox pinched one on her head. "I think that makes you a little bit of a hypocrite too."

"Maybe it does." She slowed discreetly until she was one step behind Fox. She looked at the four or five orange hairs on her glove, pinched between her thumb and forefinger.

Roots.

The hairs had white roots.

She stuffed them in her jacket pocket.

Fox reached the elevator. Anniekin, Jason, and Niffle had already taken one down. Wolf pushed the down button and smiled at him, "I hope you like nonstop rave music."


	6. Sex

**-.-.-.-.- 6 -.-.-.-.-**

Multi-colored lights pulsed from the DJ's vast podium of turntables on the stage. It was the same giant room the Masquerade had been in. In the flashing rainbow of lights and laser beams, trance music thumped at ear bleeding volumes. Hundreds of fursuiters and furries danced and flailed and gyrated with glow sticks and tails and ears. Someone wore a gas mask. Another had his shirt off and wore a dozen glowing necklaces of different colors. A chain of bikini-clad felines dry humped each other in a long twisting line.

"I want to leave," Fox said to Wolf.

She ignored him and pulled him into the furry orgy, spinning, taking hold of both of his paws and executing a dance that didn't fit at all with the intense spiral of electronic music. She waltzed calmly to her own beat. Fox went with it and eased into her box steps. Others around them made room while continuing their frantic flailing and mindless ecstasy.

Fox dipped Wolf. Once on her feet again, she stirred him into a slow foxtrot. "This should be fitting!" she yelled over the rave music. "You dance pretty well for all the garb!" They glided around until they rammed into a crocodile, Chomps685, knocking him over into a crowd of other fursuiters.

"Spoke too soon!" Fox yelled.

The commotion occurred in mute under the tornado of techno and flashing colored lights—a silent movie of a crocodile trying to push himself up off a floor—felines, huskies, and tigers, helping him off the ground.

Six meters away, Jason swung around green glowsticks attached to strings like helicopter rotors. People made room. A small crowd encircled him to watch. Anniekin hopped in front of him in her baggy jeans and cat ears in time to the beat. She saw Fox and Wolf, holding each other by the hands, laughing at Chomps685's distress. "There's Fox!" She pointed.

Jason saw and turned his helicopter rotors toward Fox and Wolf, showing off his glowsticking skills. His orange sweaty hair stuck to the sides of his face. He reached Fox and Wolf, grinning, swinging his glowsticks around the two, encasing them in green blurs.

Fox stuck his arm out, catching a string, instantly tangling the glowsticks into a mess of yarn.

"Hey!" Jason cried.

Wolf pulled Fox by the hand, laughing, "Let's get out of here." They were off, disappearing in the technicolor darkness.

Anniekin reached Jason, trying to untangle the twine of his glowsticks as the watching crowd dispersed into dancing again. "That girl is hogging Fox!" she yelled.

"Who does she think she is?" Jason said. "We're his handlers."

Wolf took Fox to her hotel room, where Slippy and Falco just returned from a furry art class that had been teaching them the wonders of proper muzzle anatomy and how to draw raccoon penises.

They shared a 24-pack of Bud Light with Fox, who accepted the canned beverage and sniffed the wheaty odor before sipping. It had alcohol. Corneria had similar drinks, fermented, very similar actually. He got past the nuanced flavor differences, quietly thankful for a path to inebriation in this bizarre purgatory.

Sitting on one of two queen-sized beds, Falco showed off his portfolio of drawings: mediocre furry pencil sketches of anthro falcons and eagles in random mundane situations like an office, a bus stop, and a bird plumber fixing a sink, all with extra attention paid to musculature.

"These are great!" Slippy said. "You're improving so much more than I am."

"Soon, I'll be taking commissions," Falco said.

Sitting on the other bed, Wolf looked at Fox and held back a snicker, covering her lips with the lip of her beer can.

"Anything creative you do?" Fox asked her.

Her snicker died.

Falco grinned, "She writes fanfiction."

"I don't anymore," she said.

"Yeah you do," Falco pestered. "You just keep changing aliases to cover your tracks."

She reached over the gulf between their beds and smacked him across the arm.

Slippy arched his eyes devilishly. "She's written tons of Star Fox fanfics… particularly about you Fox."

"I hate you," she said.

Fox asked, "Is that so? What have you been writing about me?"

"She's been banned twice," Falco said. "For writing too… explicitly."

By now Wolf was furiously red. She pulled off her eyepatch and threw it at Falco. "Why don't you show the sketches you keep in your black folder? Oh yeah, then everyone would see you like to draw dick girls."

Falco's face fell. Wolf slid off the bed and trudged to the balcony, sliding the glass door open and shut behind her. Fox followed.

The night was warm and muggy. Their hotel suite faced away from downtown Pittsburgh and looked across the river to the bridges and northern hills, a twinkling swarm of orange and white lights. The giant swooping convention center looked like a silver star ship along the river, like something Arspace would design. Wolf glanced at Fox as he slid the door shut. "Yeah, they're pretty annoying," she said. "I had to get air."

"I'm sure they mean no harm," Fox said.

Wolf rested her arms on the railing. "I guess it's dumb to feel insecure in front of furries—they're furries."

"Aren't you one too?"

She watched cars cross the bridges spanning the Allegheny River. "Yeah, and so are you. More than everyone in fact." She turned to Fox. "I like you, but who are you under all that makeup? That's what I really want to know."

"Just a guy who wants to go home actually."

"And where's home?"

"Cor— New Jersey."

"You were going to say Corneria."

"I'm not that obsessed with Star Fox."

Wolf lunged toward him, grabbed his tail and twisted it around in her gloved hands.

Fox howled and clutched her arm and shoulder and almost fell against the railing.

Wolf's eyes widened. She let go and shoved Fox away, stepping back until she bumped a chair.

"What was that for?" Fox groaned, recoiling his tail against his leg.

"What are you?" she huffed, watching the tail move and spasm. "I don't care who you are. I just want to know _what_ you are."

"I was pretending."

"Bullcrap."

"Look, I like you too," Fox said. "You're not like the others. You're smart."

"Thanks. You're not like them either. You're not human," she said bitingly.

"That's ridiculous."

"Prove to me you're human. Take the makeup off. Take something off. The ears. That tail. Just remove something."

Fox stared at her and half laughed, then looked out into the city nightscape, then at his own paws, flexing them.

"Oh God," she whispered. "You can't."

"Wolf—"

"You really aren't human."

"Don't be scared of me," Fox said.

Wolf hugged herself and scrutinized every part of his body, his furry forearms, his furry neck, his muzzle, his white fuzzy eyebrows.

"I've been scared too," Fox said.

Wolf didn't budge and looked to the balcony's sliding door. "So what are you, some kind of freak?" She edged toward the door. "Some obsessed wack-job who had surgeries to make themselves look like an animal? Some government experiment gone horribly wrong and now you're searching for a home among furries?"

"I'm not any of those things," Fox said.

"Or are you really Fox McCloud?" she asked mockingly.

"You already don't trust me," Fox said. "You're not going to believe anything I tell you."

Wolf shook her head. "I want to know the truth. Tell me."

Fox looked at her, unblinking. A breeze swept the balcony. He dropped his paw against his side. "All right. You want to hear it?"

"Yeah."

"Fine." He sighed and composed himself, unsure how to proceed. "There is some connection between this planet—and the Lylat System—thousands of light years from here—a connection I can't explain. I was sent here—thrown here—by the mad scientist turned emperor, Andross Oikonny."

Wolf stared.

"I really am Fox McCloud."

Wolf said nothing for a moment. She nodded slowly, looking everywhere except Fox. "Right… you were right. I still think you're a botched government experiment."

Fox stepped forward. She stepped back.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He stepped forward again.

Wolf stepped back. "Why would you? You're only crazy."

"I need you to believe me, so that you can help me. I need to find a way out of here, a way back."

"I don't want to help you," Wolf said until she was backed against the railing. "And I won't believe you. There's no such thing as Lylat. Or Star Fox."

Fox lunged at her, grabbing her with both paws. He threw himself over the railing with her.

She didn't scream as they fell from two hundred feet, shock caught in her throat. She dug her nails into his jacket and fur. City lights spun in a whirlwind.

A blue glow blossomed and flickered around them, encased them. They hit a glass roof. The shell flashed. She hardly felt the impact, just a gentle bounce. They somersaulted gracefully down into the street, hitting the road once, bouncing to a rest on the sidewalk, unharmed. Bathed in a blue glow, she held Fox in a death grip. They floated inches above the pavement. Fox tapped something on his belt and the geometric shell of light shimmered away and they floated down until their bodies lay against the concrete.

Lying on her back, she stared up at the façade of the hotel, gasping for air. The balcony of her suite was a tiny silhouette in the night sky. Fox leaned over her and smiled sheepishly.

She let out a blood curdling scream. Fox blinked and let her get it out of her system. Cars drove by on the street, ignoring the scene.

Wolf pounded Fox's arm with her fists over and over. "How could you do that? Why did you do that?"

"I had to show you."

She took a deep breath and sighed and stared up at the sky. "You shoved me off a twentieth floor balcony to prove a point."

"Did I have a choice?"

"I know. The reflector... you really are then..."

He moved into her line of sight. "Yeah. It's real. Now will you help me?"

She pulled off a glove and touched his cheek and muzzle, curious, unsure. Headlights of passing cars illuminated his animal visage for brief seconds. Fox let her study his face. She felt his ears, the way they folded and popped right back up. She pinched one and could feel a faint pulse. She tilted toward him. He stayed close.

She kissed him, quick on the lips.

"Freaks!" yelled a homeless man watching from an alley.

Wolf shoved Fox off of her. "Ew, I don't know why I did that."

"Inspired by your fanfiction?" Fox asked, smiling.

"Let's just get back," she grumbled.


	7. Seven

**-.-.-.-.- 7 -.-.-.-.-**

Falco gnashed on seeds. He sat across from Fox in the galley of the Great Fox. This was three years ago. They were nineteen, the age where they truly became the hotshot mercenaries of the Lylat system, having already defeated Andross once in the first Lylatian War. Corneria glowed through the row of portholes along the wall of the large dining area. The engines of the ship hummed under their boots.

Fox turned a page in his comic book about a sexy poodle pilot named Fay fighting an evil scientist named Andorf. Fox identified with it.

Falco popped another mouthful of seeds into his mouth. "Did you hear the latest about Andross?" he said, almost sounding bored as he chewed.

"I'm not interested in rumors," Fox said. He didn't look up from his engrossing comic book. Fay was preparing to enter Andorf's lair in her trusty star fighter.

"They say he has a son," Falco said.

Slippy lounged on a couch on the far side of the room from the steel table where Falco ate and Fox read. He was surrounded by gadgets, frayed wires and tools. His eyes perked to attention and he stopped tinkering with a spare ROB hand. "I heard about it too. The nets are talking about it. The word came from Area 4."

"Should I send a card to Venom?" Fox asked, sharp teeth glinting under his lip for just a second in the dim light.

"They say it's some sort of creature," Falco said. "Not ape, not even a Lylatian species."

"Yeah, an alien or some experiment," Slippy said, seeming excited at the thought of the horror of a new Androssian creation. "I wonder if it has a mother."

"Is it a threat?" Fox asked.

"It's an infant," Slippy said. "At least that's what they say. Andross disappeared for two years and now he's back with a baby."

"What's its name?"

"It was something almost unpronounceable. Something like Shee-geer-ooo—"

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Fox jolted awake. He was in a queen-sized bed in a beige hotel room. Gold morning light waved through the bland curtains and traced shadows on his orange furred chest. Glass buildings stood through the windows. Pittsburgh. Earth. A human girl lay next to him. Wolf. He said her name and she stirred in the cotton sheets. He said it again and she rolled sideways and peered at him and smiled, then rolled her eyes. "It's too early," she grumbled, adjusting her black tank top. "It's only the second day of the convention. We can sleep."

Fox said nothing, staring ahead at the blank television screen, reflecting a bowl image of himself and Wolf on the bed. His fur stood in different directions. Wolf's blond bobbed hair was frayed against her face.

"What are you thinking about?" Wolf asked.

"Just a dream, trying to remember it."

"Where were you?"

"Back in Lylat I think. With Falco. It's mostly gone now."

She sat up a little and looked at him, studying his face and body. How his eyelids moved when he blinked, the little gold eyelashes, the curvatures of his abdomen where the fur lightened into shades of peach and white just before the brim of his boxers, how his torso rose and fell imperceptibly with his quiet breathing through a wet black nose. Throughout the night, Wolf had slept at least a foot away from Fox, a safe space. But she would still wake up at random points and touch him on the arm, just to see if he was still real, not some prolonged hallucination that culminated the night before when she fell with him from their twentieth floor balcony, saved by his iconic hexagonal reflector.

"What?" Fox asked.

"I'm sorry, I'm still trying to adjust to you existing."

"I'm adjusting too."

The door of the room burst open. Falco and Slippy entered, disheveled and beat tired for 9 a.m.

"Are we interrupting anything?" Slippy grumbled as he casually strolled past the bed. His green face paint was smeared, exposing large swaths of his sweaty chubby white face.

"Did you guys even sleep last night?" Wolf asked, pulling her sheets up protectively. "How the hell do you even function?"

"Red Bull," Falco said, nearly bouncing in. He slapped Fox on the shoulder as Fox rubbed his eyes. "The drink of champions." Falco looked at his hand and saw orange hairs, then orange hairs on the bed that had come off of Fox's matted body fur. "I can't imagine sleeping with all that crap on is very comfortable."

"It's a lot of work to take off and put on," Fox said. "Easier just to keep it on."

Wolf leered at him, smirking.

"Plus," Fox added with a smile. "It helps keep the magic going, right?"

Falco laughed, "Yeah, you make me feel like a mundane."

Fox got dressed and Wolf and the boys took turns showering. Falco spent several minutes standing in front of the bathroom mirror, shirtless, obsessively spiking up his hair in a mohawk and spraying it with blue hair dye. Fox was starting to smell, so he too took a shower but spent twenty minutes drying himself with all the bathroom towels and the tiny little blow dryer attached to the wall. Bathrooms on Earth didn't have the drying rooms he was accustomed to on the Great Fox or in Lylat in general. He then spent several minutes cleaning up orange hair clogging the drain and littering the counter. No one asked why he took so long since they all got enveloped in a heated game of Super Smash Bros. Brawl on the Wii that Falco had brought with him to the hotel. The group decided to get breakfast at the small cafe in the lobby of the Westin hotel. Other furries were present, huskies and wolves and rabbits crammed into booths and tables, even at ten in the morning. When Fox, Wolf, Falco and Slippy arrived in full costume, the hostess tiredly grabbed menus from her podium, but hung her attention on Fox for just a few extra seconds. Other furries felt two dimensional compared to the vividness of his fur and paws and perfectly fitted costuming. She led them to their booth among the similar crowd. On the way, they ran into Fox's first group of friends: Anniekin, Niffle, and Jason, who were sitting in a booth of their own, having just ordered food.

"Fox! We were wondering what happened to you," Niffle said, still wearing his same TaleSpin shirt from yesterday. "After the rave, you just disappeared."

Anniekin sat with her arms crossed, elbows resting on the table. Her lip turned upward as she said with surprising malice, "I see you've made friends with the rest of your team."

Wolf smiled thinly and extended her gloved hand, "Hi, I'm Kelsy."

Anniekin didn't take it, instead fingering with a silver chain that connected her black jacket pocket to her black jeans. Her blond hair, similar to Wolf's, fell forward into her eyes. "I hope you guys are having fun. Just remember, it was us who entered you in the Masquerade contest and got you that check. We're your handlers."

"Annie," Jason said queasily. "Chill out on them okay?" He looked up to Fox, his red scruffy hair almost matching the hue of Fox's fur. "Maybe you guys could join us? We can make room." He adjusted his fake blue cheetah tail out of the way and started to move silverware on the table.

"No," Kelsy said turning to the hostess who had been waiting patiently to seat them. "We'll just go to our own booth."

Once seated on the far side of the restaurant, Falco said, "Fox, I'm not sure if you noticed or not, but furry drama is the worst drama."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You're a good looking dude with some surreal fursuiting going on. That girl back there clearly wants a piece of you and is jealous you're hanging with Kelsy now."

"I just met her yesterday," Fox said helplessly, trying to look over at Anniekin from across the room not too obviously. "She's a stranger. I don't even know what a handler is."

"Doesn't really matter," Falco said. "She set her sights on you."

"Those guys are crazy," Wolf said. "You don't want to hang with them anyway."

"Kelsy has her sights set too," Slippy said, his chubby green painted face twisting into a devilish smirk.

Wolf shot daggers at him. "Oh do I Alex? What about you, you like every single new guy we make friends with you horny toad!"

Slippy nearly jumped from his seat, "Kelsy!"

"Guys, guys!" Fox put his hand up. "What is it with you guys? Why do you come to these conventions? Is it to just argue about who likes who? Or who's attracted to who? Or to fight for the attention of others?"

Wolf and Slippy looked away, ashamed.

Falco had been resting his chin on his hand the entire time. "Fox, furrydom is all about attention whoring. That's why people are furries. It gets them attention. What you're seeing is just a tiny…" He looked up at Kelsy across from him. "… little blonde extension of that."

Wolf threw her napkin on the table and got up, sliding around Fox awkwardly to get out of the booth. She pulled off her shoulder pads and eye patch and tossed it at Falco. It bounced off of him since they were made of light cloth and foam. She stormed through the restaurant, zipping past Anniekin's table. Anniekin smiled at Wolf's distress.

Slippy looked at Falco. "You're an asshole, dude."

Fox got up and went after Wolf. He caught up with her in the lobby of the hotel by the gift shop, where regular hotel guests were purchasing newspapers and drinks. Some tried to glance unnoticeably at Fox and the young blonde teenager in tears.

"Wolf, that's the second time those guys have made you run off," Fox said, touching her arm.

"It is stupid," she growled. "Why do I even come here? I've liked Derek for such a long damn waste of time and I only come to Anthrocon to try and get his attention, but he's just a dick to me."

"Derek?"

"Falco!" Wolf cried. "I don't know why I like him. He likes to draw dick girls. And don't call me Wolf, call me Kelsy, okay? I just want to stop roleplaying."

"You never introduced yourself to me," Fox said.

"You didn't either."

He shrugged. "Fox McCloud."

The girl laughed. "Right, right. I'm Kelsy Smith. Just a regular human girl out of high school, unemployed, bored with Earth and the guys on it."

"Then help me get out of here," Fox said. "We'll get out together. I have to help my team. I left them in grave danger, facing a mad scientist bent on killing everything and everyone I know."

Kelsy had stopped crying. "Fox, I don't know how to help you. I don't know how you're here other than what you told me about Andross."

"You've played the games. We can piece this together."

Three furry otters dashed by in oversized costumes, big and brown with white googly eyes. One bumped a regular guest of the hotel, an older woman, who bounced off the otter, arms flailing. She fell onto her hands and knees on the marble floor of the foyer. The contents of her purse splashed across the tiles. The otters didn't care and dashed off in the direction of the convention center where the festivities of Anthrocon were starting up for the day.

"Wow. They don't care about anything, do they?" Kelsy said flatly to herself. "No one on this planet regards anything going on except the fantasies in their heads. This isn't reality. I need to feel something. I need to believe in something that needs me."

Fox went over to the woman and helped her collect her wallet, cell phone, keys and makeup items from the marble tile.

Kelsy watched Fox hand items to the woman. The woman stuffed things into her purse. She didn't regard Fox's alien appearance, quietly thanking him, shaking her head.

_I have to get out of here_, Kelsy thought. _Fox is real. There's more than just this_. _There's a whole other universe out there. There's a way out._ She heard the Star Fox theme song in her head, the pompous intro of horns and strings slowly building up to a boisterous orchestral harmony. Her eyes set on Fox McCloud as he walked back to her with a wide swagger, his white pilot jacket flaring out with the sleeves rolled up, that red scarf tied around his neck, the gleam in his green mischievous eyes as he smiled at her.


	8. Eight

**-.-.-.-.-.- 8 -.-.-.-.-.-**

General Pepper stood at the head of the dark briefing room. The room was cold, blue lights shined from the floors highlighting every wrinkle in the bloodhound's face. There were eight leather chairs in the top secret briefing room occupied by the Star Fox team and three commanders of Husky unit: Peppy Hare, Falco, Slippy, and Bill sat in the front row. Fox and the two other commanders of the unit sat in the back. Fox dozed off, holding up his chin with the palm of his hand. This was two years ago, just after Fox's twentieth birthday.

General Pepper tugged on his uniform to straighten it before continuing his briefing at the small lectern. "We were able to use the access codes in the crashed Wolfen on Fortuna to gain access to Venom's computer network. The codes were changed within minutes, but in those few minutes we were able to extract fascinating insights from some of Andross's personal files."

Fox let out a snore before snorting and readjusting his head.

Slippy sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Fox McCloud," the General muttered coldly, jowls shaking.

Fox perked up not caring that he was being rude. "Whats up General?"

"What is up is this briefing. You might find this information useful."

"Right on General." Fox nodded, leaning back.

"Yes," the General straightened his uniform again. "As I was saying, we have garnered some surprising revelations from Andross's personal files."

Fox started drifting away again, the General's deep voice fading away like Fox was falling deep under water, soothed by the blue lights of the room. A few words still swam to the surface of his ears as he dozed off, words like "his son," "Earth," "hairless ape species," "…Shigeru… Miyamoto…"

Kelsy grabbed Fox's wrist, startling him from his flashback daydream, bringing him back to the present, back to Pittsburgh on the planet Earth in the hotel lobby of the Westin. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I need to play those games," Fox said rapidly. "The Star Fox games are the key to all of this. The creator is the link between our worlds."

"The creator? ... Shigeru Miyamoto?"

"That's the name!" Fox beamed. "He's Andross's son."

"Andross's son?" Kelsy scratched her hair, adjusting her wolf ears. "You mean to tell me that the head of Nintendo, the largest video game company on the planet… is an alien?"

"Half human," Fox said quickly. "At some point during his exile from Corneria four years ago, Andross must have come to this planet. He must have lived a life here."

"But Shigeru Miyamoto is over fifty years old. That means Andross came here fifty years ago."

Fox furrowed his lips together, contemplating. "Yet Shigeru was only a child at the time I was sent here. There must be some sort of temporal displacement between here and Lylat. There must be a reason for that. Regardless, he must be the key to getting back to Corneria."

"I'm getting really confused," Kelsy said. Other fursuiters, wolves and canines, dashed around them heading to the convention center filled with glee and excitement.

Fox tried to keep Kelsy's attention. "The games, Kelsy. That should be the first thing we do. I need to play them. I need to know what this Shigeru knows."

"That shouldn't be hard to find. Some furry in this hotel must have all six."

"I know who would," Fox said resolutely, taking Kelsy's hand and pulling her toward the escalator that led to the walkway to the convention center.

Kelsy's friends, Alex and Derek, saw Kelsy being pulled away by Fox through the hotel lobby. They hurried after them, trying to keep up, but couldn't gain on them while weaving through the furry crowds. They didn't catch up to the pair until they had made it all the way into the convention center's art dealer room where thousands of furries milled about the vast expanse of hundreds of long tables of furry art.

Fox was dashing toward the table of the gruff male artist who had drawn all the nudes of Fox and Falco.

"You!" Fox said rushing up to the table.

"Hey, whoa man," the artist said stepping back protectively behind his table of X-rated furry art and closing his binder of drawings. "Look I said I was sorry about my art. I'm just a fan."

Fox shook his head. "No don't worry about it. I need your help. Tell me your name."

"Uh, Robert," he answered unsure. "What kind of help?" Robert was a tall chubby guy in his midthirties with short black hair, mutton chops, a mustache and four or five piercings looped through both his ears.

Kelsy caught up with Fox and asked the artist urgently, "Do you own the Star Fox games? Do you have them here with you?"

"Hell yeah, of course I do," Robert said perking up. "I take them everywhere I go."

"I thought you might," Fox said.

"What's this all about?" the artist asked.

"We need to play them," Kelsy said. "Are they in your hotel room? Can you take us there?"

"Uh, yeah," Robert said. "You want to play them now?" he asked suspiciously.

"Yeah now," Fox said.

"Um well…" the artist trailed off. "I gotta stay with my table and all."

A morbidly obese man with bunny ears was browsing through the nudes of Fox and Falco at the end of the table. There were a few nudes of Peppy and Slippy and even one of General Pepper in a leather bondage outfit with a carrot in his mouth.

The bunny-eared customer held that one up. "How much for this S&M General Pepper?"

"Thirty," the artist said.

Fox did a double take at the drawing and dry heaved at the sight of General Pepper in an outfit that amounted to just leather straps criss-crossing his old sagging body. "Really man?" Fox choked nauseously at Robert. "General Pepper?"

"Hey," the artist mumbled. "I said I was a fan." He sighed. "I tell you what, since business blows this year, if you buy one of my pieces of art here, I'll give you my hotel key and you can play the games."

Fox rolled his eyes. "I was afraid of this."

"This one," Kelsy grinned and picked up the best detailed nude of Fox, standing casually in an empty hangar bay, his green pilot pants bunched around his ankles. A smiley face sticker covered what was likely an orange erection standing proudly at attention.

Fox sighed.

Kelsy tried to stifle her grin and paid, and Robert the artist dug into his jeans pocket and handed Fox his hotel keycard.

"Room 550 in the Westin," Robert said. "You'll find my SNES and Wii hooked up to the TV. I downloaded Star Fox 64 on the Wii, too."

"Thank you, thank you," Kelsy said nearly hopping in place.

Robert said, "The only thing I don't have is Star Fox Command for the DS."

"Screw that game," Kelsy said. "We just need to play the first two or three."

Fox pinched the nude drawing from her hand. "When we're done, can we burn this?"

Robert smiled. "I can do a commission of you two later if you want. Fifty bucks. You two make a great couple. A great Fox and Wolf. I like it."

Kelsy reddened and ran a hand through her blond hair, almost sweeping out her wolf ears by accident.

"We're not together," Fox said. "Just friends."

Kelsy mentally counted how much money she had left.

Slippy and Falco had been watching the whole conversation transpire from a distance. They watched Kelsy and Fox rush off through the crowds, leaving Robert at his table with a satisfied smile on his face.

Alex scratched some of the green paint on his cheek and turned to Derek. "Something fishy's going on man. I don't know what it is, but the more I watch Fox with Kelsy, the stranger they seem. I just can't put my finger on it."

"Why would he need to play the games?" Derek pondered. He turned to Alex. "You heard the room number. Let's follow them." He grabbed the short stout Slippy by the arm and pulled him along in the direction Fox and Kelsy had run off.

Anniekin, Niffle, and Jason ran up to the spot where Slippy and Falco had bolted from. "Ugh! That crappy Wolf cosplayer is still hogging Fox!" Anniekin said with disgust. "He was my friend first. I'm his handler. This isn't fair!"

Niffle stood in her way. "Annie, I've known you online for four years. You came to this convention all the way from New Jersey to hang out with us. We don't need _them_."

"Yeah we do!" Anniekin said, pushing him aside. "He's the coolest Fox McCloud ever! He won the masquerade thanks to me. He's practically a furlebrity now!"

"Annie," Jason said irritated. "What is up with you? Why can't you let him go? He clearly has found new friends. Let's just enjoy the convention ourselves."

Anniekin crossed her arms, tracking Slippy and Falco with her eyes as they receded further and further away through the crowds of the dealer room. "Something is going on here," she muttered. "And I intend to find out. Now c'mon!" She started after Slippy and Falco.

Niffle and Jason sighed. Before they ran off in pursuit, Niffle glanced at some of the gay furry art on the tables. "I just came here for the art, man."


	9. Nine

**-.-.-.-.-.- 9 -.-.-.-.-.-**

Kelsy and Fox stepped slowly into the artist's trashy hotel room. Fox kicked a Red Bull can by accident, which hit more Red Bull cans. There were paint supplies, pencils, notebooks, laminated prints of furry art, most of them nude depictions of Fox, Falco and Wolf, scattered all over the room.

"Furry artists," Kelsy said, annoyed, kicking another Red Bull can.

Fox looked around, bewildered at the sight of sketches and artful drawings of himself. "The dude is obsessed with me."

"Try to ignore all the nude copies of yourself," Kelsy said. "Like you said, we gotta play Star Fox if we want to figure out what to do next."

Fox pushed aside nude drawings of himself and sat on the bed in front of the TV. Several video game consoles were hooked up with tangled wires. Kelsy got on her knees and blew into some cartridges and plugged one into the Super Nintendo. "This is the first Star Fox game," she said. "It was made almost twenty years ago."

"By Shigeru Miyamoto, right?" Fox asked, stumbling through the name. Kelsy nodded. Fox gritted his teeth, determined to know how to get back to Corneria. Miyamoto, being Andross's son, was the key, the link. The game started on the TV screen with simple bombastic orchestral music. Fox stared at the images on the screen. He squinted. "It's just like... triangles."

"I know," Kelsy said getting up and sitting on the bed next to him. "The game's kinda old." She stuck an SNES controller in Fox's paws. Fox pulled his gloves off and fumbled awkwardly with the buttons.

"Hit A," Kelsy said.

Fox poked the A button with a claw and sat up straight and rolled his neck. "Okay, I'm ready."

"You should probably do the training mode first," Kelsy said.

Fox glanced at her.

"Or not," she said, patting Fox's shoulder. "You'll do great."

The map screen loaded. Fox stood up with the controller and got close to the TV. He whispered the names on the TV, "Sector Z. Macbeth. Venom. Even the black hole." He turned to Kelsy. "These are all planets in Lylat, locations from the first war. I had just left the academy." He touched the little pixelated Corneria.

"Black hole?" Kelsy asked.

Fox relaxed and sat on the bed. "It's not in the Lylat system like it is on this map. But there is a black hole about twenty light years from Corneria. It's where Andross did a lot of his temporalgenic research. From that research he was able to create a link between Corneria's asteroid belt and a nearby nebula, Sector X, where he manufactured ships. During the war he could run supplies around us or make missiles appear right on Corneria's mesosphere."

"That sucks," Kelsy said. "Take the path through the asteroid level to go there. Maybe we'll learn something."

Fox tried to push buttons. "It's not letting me.

"You have to play through Corneria first and then the asteroid level is second."

Fox hit a button. The screen faded to a pixelated cartoon General Pepper and Fox with mission instructions ticking across. Fox felt a strange sadness, missing home, missing the familiar, but dreading the urgency of war. The level began with the burst of pumped up music. Fox immediately flew the triangle Arwing into five rectangle buildings. It careened to the green ground, bounced and exploded.

"This could take a while," Kelsy said.

Fox chewed his lip. "Maybe you should play."

"I'm horrible at these games."

Fox turned the controller around in his digits. "This thing is too small for my paws."

The door to the hotel room burst open and Alex and Derek rushed in. Alex's green painted face and yellow Slippy costume were flabby and ruffled. Derek's blue Falco mohawk drooped a little.

Kelsy jumped up. "What are you guys doing in here? Leave us alone."

Fox stood from the bed.

"Look," Derek said. "I'm sorry I was a dick at breakfast this morning."

Kelsy folded her arms. "Okay. Leave."

"You left this," Derek said, holding out Kelsy's black eyepatch for her Wolf costume. She snatched it from his hand and slipped it over her left eye.

Alex pushed aside some nude drawings and sat on the other bed. "You guys are having a Star Fox tournament?"

"Yeah," Derek said. "Not fair. Come on, I'll be nice now. I wanna play."

"Tournament?" Fox asked, standing with the SNES controller.

"Uh... yes!" Kelsy fidgeted with her eyepatch. "Fox said he had a real hankering to play so I told him I'd challenge him."

Derek looked at the TV. "SNES Star Fox," he said smugly. "Old school. Nice. But way hard."

On the screen, the ignored Arwing flew aimlessly into buildings, lasers zapping it. The triangle ship crashed again. A little com window opened in the bottom left corner and Slippy's pixelated face said "Noooo!" The voice croaked gibberish. Alex mimicked the croaking.

Fox handed Derek the controller. "Yes, a tournament. How about you go first."

"Great idea," Kelsy said and crossed her arms. Derek, you love to talk about how much of an expert you are at SNES Star Fox. Show us."

"Allow me." Derek pushed aside nude sketches of Fox and Falco and sat on the bed next to Fox with the controller.

The door burst open again. Anniekin, Niffle and Jason rushed into the room.

"Jesus!" Kelsy said. "What the hell are you guys doing?"

Anniekin stopped in her tracks, chains and zippers on her cybergoth pants jangling. She brushed a blond strand of hair out of her eyes, inspecting the trashed and crowded room, confused, as though she were expecting some other scene. "You're having a Star Fox tournament?" she said, disappointed.

"Hell yeah," Derek said waving the controller.

"Oh SNES Star Fox," Jason said. He walked in further, red hair sticking to his shiny face, blue cheetah tail bouncing. "Real hard. But there's no multiplayer."

"We'll take turns," Derek said. "I'm going first."

Kelsy thumped her face into Fox's arm. Fox put his arm around her.

Anniekin, Niffle and Jason sat on the other bed across from Fox, Kelsy, Derek and Alex. For thirty minutes they all watched Derek fidget with his SNES controller, frantically mashing buttons. He didn't die once and got through the whole game barrel rolling the whole time. Niffle and Jason ignored the game and sifted through all the nude drawings lying around the artist's room. Jason picked up a detailed colored drawing of Wolf and Fox kissing on a beach. He put it in his bag when no one was looking.

Fox hunched forward and stared at the TV, trying to scan every detail of each level, not blinking once.

"Anything helpful?" Kelsy whispered to Fox. Derek had just taken the shortcut from the Asteroid level to the Black Hole level to the Sector X level.

Fox shook his head. "It's like a cartoon. Too simple, but Miyamoto seems to know a lot. He knows about warp gates. That could be helpful."

Kelsy bit her lip. "What do we do next?"

"We have to meet Miyamoto."

"That's...impossible," Kelsy whispered.

Derek beat the game and everyone else decided there was no point in competing against him since he won without dying once or losing any of the Star Fox team. Derek and Alex said they wanted to go see Anthrocon's guest of honor, the creator of Sly Cooper and get his autograph in the ballroom.

"Maybe that game's real too," Kelsy said offhandedly.

"What?" Anniekin asked, cocking her eyebrow.

Fox glared at Kelsy.

"I mean," Kelsy said. "Wouldn't it be weird _if_ Sly Cooper were real?" She laughed.

Anniekin looked at Fox, then Kelsy. She narrowed her eyes. Kelsy twirled her hair. "You're weird," Anniekin said. She turned to Fox. "Fox, considering I'm _your_ handler, I suggest that we go meet the creator of Sly Cooper too. I think he'll really enjoy seeing your amazing costume and it's probably a good photo op."

"Yeah Fox, come with us," Alex said as Derek opened the hotel room door.

"You are not his handler," Kelsy said sharply. "Leave with your friends, we're fine."

"This isn't even your hotel room," Anniekin said looking around at the nude drawings of Fox. "You can't tell me to leave."

Niffle tugged on Anniekin's shoulder. "We're going now. Annie, they want to be alone."

"Whatever," Anniekin said and got up abruptly, chains rattling. She along with Derek, Alex, Niffle and Jason started leaving the room. Jason snatched another nude drawing of Fox from a nightstand, acting like no one noticed. Anniekin slammed the door shut behind her. Kelsy and Fox were alone again.

"Jesus," Kelsy whispered to herself.

"You think she knows something?" Fox asked.

"No. She's just a possessive drama furry."

"I don't even quite know what a handler is," Fox said.

"All fursuiters have them. It's sort of a privilege to be the handler of a high quality fursuiter." She rolled her eyes. "I mean really all they do is make sure their fursuiter doesn't trip on an escalator. I guess they get access to some other Anthrocon events and rooms and stuff."

"I see," Fox said. Kelsy fidgeted with her Wolf ears. Fox scratched his shoulder. "Um... do you want to be my handler?" he asked.

Kelsy blushed. "No, that stuff is stupid." She looked away. "I mean, yeah, I guess. Just because you sort of need me right now." She looked back at Fox and found him on his knees on the floor in front of the TV sifting through the other SNES cartridges. "What is it?"

"F-Zero," Fox said, holding up the game, looking at the blue hovercar zooming along a futuristic raceway.

"Yeah, pretty good racing game," Kelsy said. "Wait... how do you know it?"

"My dad competed in the F-Zero Grand System Championship in his time. Falco and I competed too, years ago in the Knight Circuit, to help pay Academy tuition. We've thought about racing again, but we almost lost our lives the first time." He laughed. "It's more dangerous than mercenary work."

"I guess Miyamoto borrowed a lot from your world. Did you want to play the game?"

Fox turned the F-Zero cartridge over in his paws. "No, I feel like this is a dead end. They're just... games." He looked around the room of nude sketches of himself and set the cartridge back on the floor "This guy's room is creeping me out."

"Yeah let's get out of here," Kelsy said.

* * *

I'm baaaaaack! Write a review! Stay tuned. There's much more coming soon.


	10. Tension

**-.-.-.-.-.- 10 -.-.-.-.-.-**

Kelsy and Fox left the artist's hotel room and made their way back to the convention center to return Robert his key.

"Did you guys have fun?" the artist asked as Kelsy handed him his key card over his laminated prints of Fox McCloud and Falco Lombardi nudes. His table was busy with furries browsing his prints and sketches. Fox stood off to the side with his arms crossed and had a slight scowl on his face.

"Yes, thanks so much," Kelsy said. "Sometimes we just get the urge to play those games."

"They definitely don't make them like they used to," Robert said. "I really wish Miyamoto would make a truly new Star Fox game. No outsourcing to Namco or anything."

The name Miyamoto made Fox's ears perk up and he stepped closer.

"Assault sucked," Kelsy said. "And Dinosaur Planet was like not even a real Star Fox game."

"Yeah, I wonder what happened with Shiggy. He once said that Star Fox was his favorite franchise. And in years past, it's like he's stopped caring about it. It's like he's avoiding it."

A furry with tiger ears holding a color print of Fox and Falco kissing turned to them. "The games just don't sell that well anymore," she said. "It's sort of a dying franchise."

Fox stepped back a little, a frown creeping on his muzzle, but he wasn't sure why he was sad. He should be happy to hear the franchise was dying if it would reduce the amount of all this horrible art of him. Andross's son had been exploiting his life story for consumption and entertainment on an alien world.

"Think about that commission drawing," Robert said to Kelsy and Fox. "Fox and Wolf O'Donnell. I haven't done a drawing of those two together before, and you two are too cute."

Fox flinched at the thought of a dirty drawing of him and Wolf or even... him and Kelsy.

Robert, as though reading Fox's mind quickly said, "I can make it a clean one. Just two friends together."

"I'll think about it," Kelsy said.

Several furries at Robert's table asked to have their picture taken with Fox. Kelsy spent five minutes taking pictures of Fox with random people with different cameras and phones. Fox said he was starving. They had skipped out on breakfast, and he had hardly eaten anything since arriving on Earth. Kelsy suggested Fernando's.

"Fernando's?" Fox asked as they walked out the convention center's sliding glass doors and into the sweltering Pittsburgh heat.

"It's this place on Liberty Avenue around the corner. Sandwiches, subs, typical American food. It's kind of the furry place to eat while here. The owner has always been loyal to furries when Anthrocon is going on." Kelsy saw Fox's tired face. "I know, you're probably sick of furries, but it's pretty cheap, and good and safer for furries to go there."

Cars drove down Penn Avenue in front of the convention center, filled with people gawking at the crowds of people with tails, ears and full animal costumes. One teenage girl snapped a photo of Fox from a passenger window. The girls and a jock in the car laughed, pointing at Fox.

Fox looked down at his alien self, not sure how he should feel. "Kelsy, most people on Earth, aren't furries, I'm assuming."

They stopped at the corner waiting for the walk sign. "No," Kelsy said. "Most people don't really understand it or what it is."

"I think I understand," Fox said. "There are similar sub cultures on Corneria. Primes."

"Primes?"

"Yeah, they're people who shave off all their fur or feathers and pretend to be apes, or some decide to grow scales. A lot even move to Venom. Some join Andross."

"That's probably a little different," Kelsy said. "This is just all for fun and fantasy. But I see what you mean."

"Judging from the way non furry people are looking at me, I guess I should be thankful I ended up at this furry convention instead of somewhere far out there. Andross's intended punishment or humiliation turned to be not so bad."

Kelsy looked at Fox and he smiled back at her.

They entered Fernando's which had a sign spelled "Furnando's" covered in paw prints. It was packed with convention goers, yipping and chatting and playing games. Kelsy ordered Fox an Italian sub. A sandwich maker with tattoos behind the counter said, "Sick costume, man." He handed Fox his sandwich in a purple doggy bowl.

Fox looked at the doggy bowl with paw prints on it and raised an eyebrow at Kelsy.

"I told you this place was furry friendly," she said as she paid for both their sandwiches. They sat in a booth by the window away from lingering gazes. They watched cars, furries and tourists pass by on the street.

Fox nibbled the meaty Italian sandwich, then tasted how good it was and munched into it quickly. He noticed the silence from the other side of the table and looked up to see Kelsy staring at him, somewhat sad.

"What is it?" Fox asked with a tomato dangling out of his muzzle.

"Sorry, my mind's wandering," she said, returning to her sandwich. "Just thinking about you and what is possible. What's really out there."

Fox felt the implication in her words. "Kelsy, I know I said we can get off Earth together, but if we find a way back..." He corrected himself. "_When_ we find a way back to Lylat... I'm not sure you should come. You should probably stay here with your people."

She looked down, "Yeah. I know what you mean." After a few seconds of silence, she mumbled, "There's just not a whole lot going on here for me."

Fox shrugged. "Earth seems pretty peaceful."

"Pittsburgh is peaceful," Kelsy corrected. "There's a lot of suffering out there you're not seeing."

"Same with Corneria. You only have a cartoon view of it," Fox said carefully. "Do you know how many people died in the last Androssian invasion? The war that people here play as some child's game?"

Kelsy shrugged.

"Eleven million, including some friends," Fox said coldly. "As a coup de grace, Andross sent a giant asteroid toward Corneria through one of his warp gates. We took some of it out, but a piece hit the planet, destroyed an entire continent. Was that in one of your games? A little cartoon triangle hitting a cartoon planet?"

"I'm sorry," Kelsy said. "Wars have killed millions here, too. Countless injustices across this country and globe every day. It's a crappy universe I guess. But that's not what I'm thinking about. I need my life to have some meaning beyond just this tedium. Beyond Anthrocon," she said dismissively, almost laughing at herself. "And suddenly with you here, it might have a meaning now."

"You're young," Fox said flatly. "Your life will have meaning here. Fight injustice here."

"I'm trapped," she said. "I live with my senile grandmother in Pittsburgh. I have no friends... except those from the internet I meet at furry conventions once or twice a year. I can't find a job. I have no money. My parents died in a car accident when I was twelve... and the money from that is running out. I'm just trapped."

Fox put his sandwich down in his doggy bowl. "You would be alone in Lylat. You would be the only one of your kind."

"I would know you," Kelsy said.

Fox smiled. "Yeah, I guess that's true... And I have good friends. Unlike yours, no offense."

Kelsy laughed. "Yeah. I like your friends. Though Falco seems like kind of a prick."

"He's a sweet guy, I promise." Fox could see Kelsy still looked sad beneath her eyepatch and wolf ears. "Look, I know how you feel. I lost my parents too."

She nodded. "I know... You know Fox, you might not be able to find a way back to Lylat. You might have to make due with Earth somehow for the rest of your life."

He nodded and watched a group of teenagers with fox tails dash by the window. "I've considered that."

They ate in silence for a while. Fox shifted subjects. "Thinking about Miyamoto more. You said, it's impossible to meet him."

"He lives in Japan, which is the other side of the world. There wouldn't even be any way to get you on a plane. You don't have an identity. Security wouldn't even let you through until you took off your 'mask.' You'd probably just get arrested the moment you walked into an airport. I don't even have money for a plane ticket."

Fox grimaced and looked around. "Maybe you could get him to come here?"

Kelsy shook her head. "He's a powerful man. I wouldn't even know how to contact him. Or what we could say without sounding like a crazed fan. 'Oh hi, so Star Fox is here, in the flesh. He'd like to meet you.'"

"Unlike everyone else, he knows for a fact that I'm real," Fox said. "It could get his attention."

"He's also Andross's son. He could be dangerous. I mean he could even try to hurt or kill you."

"I could handle him," Fox said. He shrugged. "And didn't he make me the hero of his games? Why didn't he make his father Andross the hero and me the villain?"

Kelsy thought for a second. "So he'd probably be sympathetic to you. Good point. Maybe that's part of the reason why he's lived his life here and not Lylat."

"Can't blame him. His father is a monster. Literally. With Andross's biogenic mutations and mental replications, he might have reached the point where it's impossible to kill him. I would never say that in Lylat, of course..." He sighed. "Lylat will never be safe as long as he's alive. I just don't think Miyamoto could be here on Earth in total exile. He must have some way to communicate with Lylat if he made those games."

Some greasy furries slid toward their booth and asked to have their photo taken with Fox. He sighed but nodded. Kelsy took pictures with different people's cameras. They finished eating and Kelsy promised to take Fox somewhere away from all the crowds.

They walked around downtown for a while, stopping for a few more pictures with tourists. A Pittsburgh police van slowly drove by and the two cops inside stared at Fox, which made Kelsy uncomfortable. She told Fox there was a secluded place in the convention center that she wanted to show him. They made their way back to Anthrocon through sidewalk crowds of mingling furries and bar-goers in front of the Westin hotel.

Back at the convention center, Kelsy led Fox up a stairwell to the roof. At the top of the stairs they walked a shadowy path between two segments of the swooping glass roof. They strolled past a glass elevator until they reached the windy concrete terrace overlooking the Allegheny River from several stories up. The terrace, the size of a football field, was completely empty. They were alone. It was evening and they had a romantic view of pontoon boats and kayaks floating down the river and passing under yellow suspension bridges. Lush hills rose in the distance dotted with row houses. Behind them, the Pittsburgh skyline spread beyond the giant glass waves of the convention center roof.

Kelsy walked ahead of Fox to the balcony railing to look at the river.

"Kelsy," Fox said urgently from behind her. She turned and was startled to see a small spaceship parked far down the terrace. She had completely not noticed it. It was a mean looking star-shaped red and white fighter jet with four sharp white wings. A space fighter jet, a Wolfen.

"How..." Kelsy dashed up to Fox as he approached the Wolfen carefully. "It can't be real," she said.

Fox felt around panels underneath the parked fighter. "The G-Diffuser is warm."

"Whose is it?" Kelsy stammered.

Fox traced his paw along the sharp jagged edges of the fighter's wings and the black gun turrets. He looked in the glass cockpit at the familiar controls and seat tangled with unbuckled straps.

Kelsy hugged herself away from the fighter, scared of the unexpected alien intrusion.

"I don't know," Fox said. The expression on his face told Kelsy that he was scared. He stopped in his tracks and started sniffing the air, confused and alarmed by something.

"Hello," said a sinister voice. A chameleon appeared in front of the fighter with a hiss, scales and a skin tight suit shimmering from red and white to green.

Fox's paw bolted for the blaster at his side. The chameleon kicked Fox across the face, spun, kicked him again with his other boot. Fox smacked into the Wolfen, clutching his muzzle with both paws.

Kelsy screamed.

"Leon!" Fox yelled. The chameleon pulled out a blaster and fired rapidly. Fox's blue reflector flashed around him, lasers bouncing and pinging in different directions, some straight back at Leon whose own red reflector flashed.

Kelsy fell to her hands and knees, lasers zipping around her. The chameleon yanked out his blaster and strafed across the terrace around the Wolfen, firing off shots. Fox rolled sideways, then spun into a cartwheel, then backflips as Leon dashed in an arc and continued to fire dozens of lasers. Fox was too fast. He returned fire and Leon's reflector flashed again. Beams bounced and hit the Wolfen, panels exploding with sparks and smoke. Kelsy saw lasers zoom off toward Pittsburgh skyscrapers. In her total panic, she briefly realized the attention they could be drawing, the implications for them all if the police came.

Fox leaped forward and karate kicked Leon across the face. The chameleon staggered back to the railing. Before Fox could kick again, Leon flipped into a handstand. His ropey tail swung and coiled around Fox's forearm which held his blaster. He swung Fox over the railing with a kick. Fox cried out and grabbed the railing from the other side, letting go of his blaster. He dangled a hundred feet in the air. The gun bounced off a concrete walkway below and spun into the Allegheny River. People on the bicycle path and riverside walkway far below looked up and pointed at what they thought was a dangling fursuiter.

Kelsy crawled and hid behind the landing gear of the Wolfen and saw burned wires and blackened pieces of metal hanging from underneath the ship where it had been hit. Fox was seconds from falling to his death and she was frozen in panic.

Leon slammed his boot into the railing repeatedly like a whack-a-mole game, trying to smash Fox's paws. Fox found the strength to swing himself up and over the rail and clamp his ankles around Leon's neck, spinning him around. Fox backrolled toward the Wolfen and Leon recovered and fired more shots, missing. The chameleon leaped toward him with a hiss, gun drawn. Fox backflipped and kicked Leon's gun, which sent it flying to one of the glass waves of the roof behind the terrace.

They both looked at the gun. Leon looked back at Fox. Fox ran after the gun, leaping onto the glass roof, running up the giant curve with lightning speed, arms out, orange tail fluttering. Leon chased, boots crunching up the glass panels. Far below the glass was the dealer room, thousands of furries milling about, oblivious to the shadows running and jumping a hundred feet above their heads. Leon launched himself through the air far over Fox. His tail snapped around one of the flag poles at the peak of the glass roof that had a giant yellow and black flag with a paw that said ANTHROCON on it. He swung himself around the pole. Fox picked up the blaster. On Leon's second swing around the pole he double punched Fox, sending him sliding back down the glass wave of the roof.

Fox arced back and fired shots off at Leon as he slid further away. Leon swung himself around the flag pole, laughing maniacally, dodging lasers.

"Kelsy!" Fox yelled as he slid. "The elevator!"

Kelsy saw the glass elevator on the terrace, cables turning in the shaft. A lift jam packed with fursuiters, wolves, canines and foxes, was rising up. Kelsy scrambled from under the Wolfen and dashed to the elevator. The furries could see her through the glass above as they slowly rose to the doors. She looked back and saw Fox and Leon grapple on the roof. If others saw the peril of what was happening it would blow their ruse. She imagined FBI agents and prison and alien autopsies performed on Fox. But she thought of the help they did need in that moment. She ripped open a panel for the elevator controls and mashed buttons randomly. The elevator stopped almost halfway to the doors overlooking the terrace. The furries pointed at her and banged on the glass but the lift wasn't high enough to see Fox and Leon fighting on the roof.

"Crap crap crap," Kelsy cried. Fox and Leon wrestled and grappled with each other, fighting for the gun in Fox's glove. She heard Fox cry out in pain. Leon was biting him. She pushed more buttons on the panel and the lift restarted, going back down to inside the convention center. The furries shook their fists at her and a professional photographer inside the elevator looked at his watch.

She spun around to see Fox and Leon roll off the glass wave of the roof to the concrete terrace with a thud. Leon splayed out growling in pain. Fox coughed and spun around and yanked the chameleon up to his hands and knees. He choked him with his arm from behind and held a blaster to the side of his head. Leon gagged and wheezed, smacking futilely at Fox's arm.

Kelsy ran up to them. Fox tightened his arm on the chameleon's neck, panting in his ear. Leon shifted colors to a sickly pink.

"Why are you here?" Fox growled.

Leon gagged with his tongue out and his eyes bugged out more. "Andross..." he wheezed, grabbing the arm on his neck.

"What?" Fox gritted his teeth, tightening his arm more.

"Andross..." The chameleon's scales cycled through a wild rainbow of colors. "...made...a mistake..."

"You're killing him!" Kelsy cried.

"Explain yourself!" Fox yelled in Leon's ear, paw quivering on the blaster trigger.

"Fox!" Kelsy screamed, almost crying.

He looked at the girl, an alien animal rage filled his face that terrified Kelsy. She thought Fox would shoot, but he suddenly relaxed his arm.

Leon collapsed to his stomach, coughing and wheezing, gasping for air. His scales slowly returned to a normal green, skin tight suit shifting back to purple. He rolled and held his neck, groaning and coughing. Fox kept his gun trained on the chameleon.

"Alright," Leon wheezed, waving Fox off. "Alright."


	11. Eleven

**-.-.-.-.-.- 11 -.-.-.-.-.-**

"Now explain yourself!" Fox yelled at Leon, gun aimed down at the chameleon. "What do you mean 'Andross made a mistake'?"

Leon caught his breath and reclined on the concrete. He stretched his hands over his head, relaxing and posing sexily with a knee up in the evening sunlight. His green ropey tail curled into the air with mirth. He looked at Kelsy, the human girl with gray fuzzy wolf ears in her green hair, a gray eyepatch and shoulder armor. The chameleon fought a smile, then he laughed fully, pounding a fist on the ground.

Kelsy stepped back, crossed her arms and looked away, feeling silly.

Leon pointed at the teenage girl, trying to stifle his laughter. "Wolf... O'Donnell?"

Fox shook his head. "Ignore her, answer me."

Leon snickered. "But_ why _is the ape girl dressed that way?"

Fox said, "I'll tell you what I know if you tell me why you're here."

"Or you'll what? Shoot me in front of a child? I know you Fox. You don't kill. Your blaster was set to stun the whole time."

Fox lowered his aim to one of Leon's long slender legs. "My gun fell in the river. This one's yours." He clicked a lever on the back. "I'd be happy to take out a kneecap. You're not going to want medical attention on this world. They haven't even gone beyond their own moon."

"Shooting him won't get us answers," Kelsy said.

Fox said, "This stain of scales is responsible for the deaths of countless Cornerian soldiers and civilians, some brutally tortured by him personally."

"Oh come off it Fox," Leon said tiredly. "Your Cornerian propaganda is meaningless when we're two thousand light years away."

"I know who he is," Kelsy said. "He's a member of the Star Wolf Team. Very easy to shoot down."

Leon raised an eyebrow at the girl. "And you are my lady?"

"You haven't earned pleasantries," she said.

"Fine, Miss O'Donnell it is I suppose."

Fox charged up the blaster to its next strength setting. The humming pitch of the energy told Leon a shot from it would blow off his leg.

"All right!" Leon said, sitting up cross-legged. "... And you say I'm the sadist."

"I'm waiting for answers," Fox said. "Tell me about Andross's _mistake_."

Leon hesitated for a bit, then frowned and said annoyed, "You're not supposed to be here. When the good doctor threw you into that portal, he meant to send you to the Demon planet of Socotro, where you would slowly burn and endure an agonizing death over several days while being eaten alive by microscopic Demon spiders."

Fox nodded, trying to push the thought out of his head. "This place is almost as bad. Why couldn't Andross just leave me here to live my days in this primitive world?"

"I don't know," Leon said flatly.

"You do. He sent you here."

"He sent me here to do what the Demon planet was supposed to do. Kill you. But obviously I was caught a little off guard when you waltzed right up to me." Leon looked around at the long glass roof of the convention center. "I had intended to just confirm you were in this strange base and nova bomb it into a crater."

"That would have been a lot of dead furries," Kelsy said.

Fox scratched his neck, thinking. "Andross couldn't just let me stay here alive because his son lives on this world. Is that it?"

Leon looked away.

"That is it," Fox said. "He doesn't want me to find him."

Before Leon could answer, two Anthrocon security guards wearing red shirts and black beret hats ran onto the terrace from the stairwell, walkie talkies in their hands. "Hey!" one of the security guards yelled at the group angrily, jogging up.

"Crap," Kelsy muttered. She stepped behind Fox, unsure of an escape route. Fox holstered his blaster.

Leon stood up, looking between Fox and the security guards. "Who are these goofy looking apes?" he said with disgust.

"Authorities," Fox said. "Don't do anything stupid."

"You!" the older security guard said until he and his cohort stopped in front of the group. "You are all... early!" He suddenly grinned.

"Early?" Kelsy said perplexed.

"Yes! For this evening's fursuit parade. We're using the roof as our staging area and pre-parade sunset photoshoot."

"What is that thing?" the younger security guard said, smiling with wonder at the parked Wolfen on the terrace. They walked up to the elaborate space fighter, gazing at it with amazement.

Leon followed after them, bewildered, "Excuse me strange ape men, that _thing_ happens to be mine."

"Leon," Fox growled.

"Leon quiet," Kelsy urged, chasing after the chameleon.

"This must be for the closing ceremonies," said the older security guard, touching a wing.

The younger security guard took a picture with his phone. "Oh yeah, this is part of what Uncle Kage was talking about when he mentioned really outdoing last year's ceremonies."

On the other side of the terrace, hundreds of fursuiters started coming out of the stairwells: wolves, otters, canines, foxes, cats, falcons, fantasy creatures, cartoon characters, all waving their paws and skipping around and yipping cheerily and laughing.

"Oh no," Kelsy said.

"We would have started the parade sooner," said the younger security guard. "But we're experiencing a malfunction with the elevators." He turned quickly to the swelling group of fursuits filling the rooftop terrace. "Alright everyone! Thank you for making it up the stairs! Line up against the Wolfen! This is our background for the photoshoot! The photographer is on his way and will be here shortly! Follow the sound of my voice! Right this way!" He waved his arms and repeated himself over and over as more and more fursuiters arrived.

Leon covered his mouth, trying not to laugh. "Oh... oh this is rich. This is too rich. This is where you've been trapped, Fox? My goodness, Andross didn't need to send me to kill you at all."

"Excuse me," said the older security guard to Kelsy. "Only full fursuiters are allowed up here at this point. Ears and a tail won't cut it." He pointed at a stairwell behind her with his walkie talkie.

"I'm his handler," Kelsy said, grabbing hold of Fox's paw.

"Handlers can wait downstairs in the main concourse with everyone else. Right now we need total fursuit magic for the photoshoot."

"Oh please," Kelsy muttered.

Leon waved Kelsy off. "You heard the ape man, little girl. Go run along now."

Fox shoved Leon and looked at the older security guard. "I'll be going with her. I don't want to be in the parade."

The younger security guard grabbed Fox by the arm. "You must Fox! You will be placed right in the front row as one of our guests of honor."

"Yes Fox," Leon said, grinning. "We must be in the parade. We're special."

"Incredible Leon Powalski costume!" said the older security guard who suddenly noticed the chameleon. "I've never seen any fursuit construction like this before. The scales, the eyes." He reached to touch Leon's arm and Leon slapped away the fleshy hand.

"The tongue!" said the younger security guard. "What fursuit studio made this?"

"The devil himself made me. Now shoo."

The guards laughed. The older one smiled and pointed at Kelsy. "Alright, you. Time to go."

"But..." Kelsy said.

The older guard pointed at Fox and Leon. "You two, this way." He walked toward the Wolfen. Leon followed happily. The fursuit mob started to encircle the Wolfen. Fox took a hesitant step, then looked at Kelsy.

"Just go," Kelsy said. "You have to play the part. We can't draw any negative attention."

Fox gritted his teeth. "I know you're right, but-"

"Don't let him cause trouble." Kelsy pointed at Leon.

The chameleon hugged random fursuiters, bouncing with them as a photographer lined them all up. "I love this planet," he said blithely. "How delightful! How stupid!"

Kelsy stepped toward the stairwell and said to Fox, "I'll be in the main concourse in front of the dealer room by the escalators. The parade shouldn't last longer than half an hour."


End file.
